


Stupidly in Love

by Micheofftrash



Series: Temporal Vertigo [2]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Mild Language, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-12 00:59:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11726217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Micheofftrash/pseuds/Micheofftrash
Summary: Michael hadn’t realized how much his trip to the future was going to affect him.[Insecurity, awkward conversations, and a future that never came to be.]





	Stupidly in Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is a sequel to Temporal Vertigo, so if you haven't read that this won't make any sense. Hope you enjoy!

Michael hadn’t realized how much his trip to the future was going to affect him.

Now, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, he felt something desperate curling in his stomach.

Mrs. Mell was humming under her breath, gliding around the kitchen island and grabbing supplies, completely unaware of his presence. It sounded like the lullaby his grandfather had always sung to Michael when he was a kid. She looked happy, with a small smile accenting the wrinkles along her laugh lines. Peaceful.

He was reminded of a picture future-Jeremy had shown him in a living room much like his own. His mother had been hugging Jeremy tightly, showing off his recently earned college diploma. She had looked happy, but there was something missing. Her face was harder, skin drawn tight with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. It looked like a mask someone would wear when they were falling apart on the inside.

He was crying before he realized it, running forward and wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.

“Oh! Michael, you scared me!” She turned angrily, ready to scold him, before taking in his crumpled expression.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” She took his face in her hands, wiping away his tears with her thumbs. It took Michael a moment to calm his breathing enough to speak.

“I just… I love you a lot.” Mrs. Mell laughed quietly, pulling his head down to lay a kiss on his forehead.

“I love you too, honey,” she smiled. “But that’s no reason to cry. It’s a good thing.”

He nodded, but the tears wouldn’t stop. He thought back to his bedroom, the one that hadn’t been touched in 15 years – the one his mother had preserved in the hopes that someday her son would come home to her. And she had died, without ever seeing him again. She died not knowing what had happened to him.

Mrs. Mell brought his head down to her chest as he began sobbing in earnest, her delicate hands carding through his hair. She started humming the lullaby again, quietly in his ear, as if any loud noise would scare him away.

“Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.” Michael said once he’d calmed down. His voice was thick with tears, eyes red.

“You never have to thank me, Michael. I’m your mother.” And then she pulled him into a hug tight enough to make Michael forget – if only for a moment – about the way her eyes looked in that photograph.

 

Michael couldn’t listen to music anymore. The headphones on his ears felt suffocating in a way they never had before – the sweet streams of notes threatened to choke him, dragging him out to sea and drowning him in cold murky waters.

A chill seeped into his bones, and he threw his headphones across the room. He wanted to scream, but was only met with resounding silence.

 

“You okay man?” Jeremy plopped unceremoniously beside him in the cafeteria, plastic lunch tray loudly clanking against the table. Michael jumped, his concentration breaking from the staring contest he had been having with the tabletop. His headphones hung limp around his neck, unused.

“Yeah.” Michael attempted a smile, and hoped it looked somewhat convincing. Jeremy gave him a look, his eyes telling Michael exactly how much he didn’t believe him.

“I mean that’s complete crap, but if you don’t wanna talk about it, it’s cool.” Jeremy shrugged, failing to look nonchalant. Michael laughed.

“I’m fine, really. I’m just…” Michael wracked his brain for a word to describe exactly what he was feeling. How do you explain that you’re heartbroken and grieving for people that no longer exist? For a future that never was?

“I’m just… tired, I guess. I haven’t gotten much sleep lately.”

That part wasn’t a lie. Michael had tried sleeping the first night, only to be awoken by nightmares. He could see Jeremy’s aged face in his dreams – the disbelief and pure relief that had shone through his eyes as he saw Michael for the first time. The way he had hovered all night, fingers nervously twitching like he wanted to reach out to Michael, but didn’t know how. His final confession.

(“ _And, he’s completely head over heels for his best friend. Stupidly in love.” Jeremy flushed as he spoke, his hands fidgeting nervously on his controller. Michael thought he looked so beautiful when he blushed, even 15 years later._ )

Sleep was something that came to him sparingly in the week following his return. But teenager-Jeremy didn’t need to know that. He worried too much already.

“Did something happen?” Jeremy asked, concern bleeding into his voice.

Michael almost laughed, but didn’t. Jeremy wouldn’t understand anyway.

“No, no. It’s fine.” A blue poster on the wall caught his eye. “Hey, you should sign up for the school play.”

“What?” Jeremy said, thrown by both the quick change in topic and the idea that he should do _anything_ associated with public speaking. “You’re joking right?”

“Nah man, you should go for it.”

“Are you nuts?” he sputtered, hands gesticulating wildly. “Last year I threw up during a presentation on the Great Depression.”

“Hey, the Great Depression is pretty vomit inducing. My gramps told me they had to eat dogs.” Jeremy gagged, having just taken a bite of his sandwich. He set the food on his tray and pushed it away, scowling.

“Well there goes my appetite.” He grumbled, folding his arms over his chest in an exaggerated pout.

“But really,” Michael persisted, ignoring his friend’s suffering, “you should do it.”

Jeremy’s face turned exasperated. “Why?”

_Because you told me that you’ll love it. Because if you don’t I’ll feel like I’m letting him down, after all that he suffered for me._

“Because,” He said instead, leaning forward to steal Jeremy’s apple, “if I remember correctly, a certain _someone_ whose name rhymes with ‘mystine meticula’ already signed up.”

Jeremy’s eyes went wide, a deep red crawling up his neck.

“ _Shut up_.” He muttered with an embarrassed smile. Michael smirked through the hurt twisting in his heart.

Alone in his room at night, Michael couldn’t shake the ever-growing fear that Jeremy had only fallen in love with him after he was gone. That Jeremy had grown to love Michael – not because he actually loved him – but because Michael was no longer there.

Because this Jeremy didn’t love Michael.

This Jeremy could talk about Christine Canigula for hours on end. This Jeremy was a stuttering, blushing mess whenever a girl even glanced in his direction.

Michael looked at Jeremy. Michael was always looking at Jeremy.

But this Jeremy wasn’t looking back.

 _Stupidly in love_ , future-Jeremy had said. Michael laughed bitterly into the dark of his bedroom. Even so, he couldn’t be angry at him, having seen the conviction on his face.

It wasn’t future-Jeremy’s fault that he had fallen in love with a ghost, rather than the real thing.

 

Jeremy only agreed to sign up for the play when Michael begrudgingly said that he’d help out with the lighting and behind the scenes stuff. He’d been about to say no – it was sitting on the tip of his tongue – when Jeremy had given him a small, intimate smile. Soft, and begging, and private.

“Fine, fine! God, turn down the pout, Heere.” Michael barked out, turned away so that Jeremy wouldn’t see the blush burning across his face. Jeremy let out a _Whoop!_ of excitement, and Michael was struck with the realization that his best friend was the biggest dork on the entire planet.

Christine was just as excited when the pair bumped into her in the hallway and Michael told her the news.

“Oh, that’s going to be wonderful! We always need extra stage hands and techies. I’m sure you’ll do great, Michael.” She clapped her hands together in excitement. “You and Jeremy should come sit with the rest of us at lunch today! We’re going to be talking about different parts and you guys could meet the other people who are gonna be working on it.”

From his hiding spot behind Michael, Jeremy made a small squeak of surprise. Michael tried to stifle a laugh, and failed.

“I’m sure Jeremy would love to. You guys go on ahead without me.” And with one swift movement Michael moved Jeremy in front of him. He sputtered, face somehow getting redder, as he was practically thrust toward Christine.

“What about you?” She asked, eyebrows drawn up in confusion. Jeremy continued to silently open and close his mouth like a fish between them.

“I’ve got last minute homework shit I gotta do.” He waved off her concern. “Besides, it’s not like I’m auditioning for a role, anyways. You guys have fun.” He hoped his smile was convincing.

Christine seemed suspicious, but let it go.

“Okay. I’ll see you at auditions after school then?” Michael nodded back. She reached forward, linking her arm in Jeremy’s to begin dragging him along toward the cafeteria. He watched them go, and let out a deep breath, allowing his shoulders to slump.

Future-Jeremy had been right about one thing. Christine Canigula was a genuinely nice person.

 

There were some days, bad days, when Michael thought about _Temporal Vertigo_ , and wished more than anything that he hadn’t destroyed the game. He sat on his bed and thought of a different timeline. A different Jeremy.

One that wanted him.

(He was tormented by the memory of a bean bag chair shifting under his weight as he leaned forward. Lips puckered. Jeremy had pushed him away, with a laugh and embarrassed smile. If Michael had realized that was his only chance, if Michael had _known_ – )

And on those days he rushed to the bathroom, gagging futilely before succumbing – emptying what little remained in his stomach from dinner. The panic attack that followed was fueled by gut-wrenching guilt.

How could he wish for a future where the people he loved had suffered? How _dare_ he?

Those nights, he laid awake, unable to sleep. His mother’s broken eyes haunted him.

 

“Noooo!” Jeremy wailed, throwing up his hands in defeat. Michael snickered and danced in his bean bag as _VICTORY_ flashed on his half of the screen.

“Wow, you fucking suck.” He teased. Jeremy threw down his controller in frustration.

“Shut up, you suck.”

“You wish.” And Michael could only laugh as Jeremy sputtered, his whole face going beat red. After glaring at him for a few moments, Jeremy gave in, laughing as well. Michael loved the sound of their laughter together.

They played video games late into the night, until their eyes were drooping. Michael decided enough was enough when Jeremy fell asleep during a boss fight.

“Hey, asshole. Now we’ll have to play the entire level over again.” Michael scolded quietly, grabbing Jeremy by his arms and pulling him up into a standing position. He wobbled slightly in his grip, and Michael tightened his hold to keep Jeremy from falling over.

“C’mon, buddy. We should get you to bed.”

Jeremy made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat. His hands came up to fist the front of Michael’s shirt, pulling him into an impromptu embrace.

Michael froze. After a few moments of Jeremy’s cold nose pressing into his collarbone, he reached up, letting one hand card through curly brown hair, the other rubbing soothing circles across his back.

In his half-asleep state, Jeremy hummed happily.

Eventually Michael maneuvered them over to the twin bed. Jeremy whined when he tried to move back, his grip tightening. The warm affection in Michael’s chest was spreading through his entire body.

Feeling giddy, he chuckled under his breath and began prying slim fingers from his shirt. “Jer, you gotta let me go, man.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Jeremy mumbled into his pillow. Michael’s breath caught in his throat.

Because He knew exactly what Jeremy would do without him. He would be devastated. He would grieve. He would get into theatre and drama and go to college. He would marry Christine, before getting divorced. He would continue living in this shitty town. He wouldn’t be happy.

He would love Michael.

“Me either, buddy.” Jeremy thankfully fell asleep before he could register the tears in Michael’s eyes.

 

In the end, life moves on. Even from experiences you thought would haunt you forever.

Two months after that day that changed his life, Michael listened to Bob Marley.

He was sat on his bed, staring at his math homework with unblinking eyes, when his fingers moved of their own volition – pulling his headphones up over his ears. The first notes hit, and Michael flinched, waiting for the impending cold claustrophobia. It never came.

_Turn your lights down low_

_And pull your window curtain_

_Oh let the moon come shining in_

_Into our life again_

_Saying ooh, it's been a long, long time_

_I got this message for you girl_

_But it seems I was never on time_

_Still I wanna get through to you girl on time, on time…_

Laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, Michael let out a breath he’d been holding since he’d dealt a killing blow to the final boss of _Temporal Vertigo_. Laughter bubbled out of his chest.

He thought about future-Jeremy, and the ache in his chest had been replaced by something else. Something fonder – determined.

He felt free.

Michael fell asleep easily that night, a small smile stuck on his face. The music pulled him into his subconscious – and it wasn’t a cold ocean, with murky waters. It was warm, and wonderful, and _real_.

_… Loving you is a like a song I replay_

_Every three minutes and thirty seconds of every day_

_And every chorus was written for us to recite_

_Every beautiful melody of devotion every night…_

 

“JEREMY!” Michael yelled, bursting through his friend’s bedroom door. Jeremy let out an inhuman screech, frantically closing his laptop and pulling his hand out of his pants.

“Michael, oh my god! You can’t just-!”

“Dude, I couldn’t give less of a shit about your boner right now.” Michael was practically vibrating with excitement. He jumped on Jeremy’s bed. “Guess what I got today!”

Michael could see Jeremy’s mortification slipping away as he sat up, curiosity winning out over his raging teenage hormones. “What?”

Figuring it would be better to show him, Michael lifted _Blood Menace 3_ out of his hoodie pocket. Jeremy’s jaw dropped.

“No way! Holy shit dude!” He snatched it out of Michael’s hands, holding it close to his face in pure wonderment. It made Michael’s heart do funny things – things that he angrily shoved back into the deep recesses of his mind. _Not now gay thoughts._

He bounced on the balls of his feet as Jeremy set up the game, unable to keep still. Jeremy had already dropped the cartridge twice, his hands shaking with his overwhelming excitement. They had been waiting to play this particular game since freshman year. It had _zombies_. Who were _vampires_. In _ancient Egypt._ Michael didn’t try to stop the giddy laughter as it escaped his chest.

They played for hours, despite the fact that they had school the next day.

By the time 4 AM rolled around, Michael was curled over, crying with laughter. On the screen, Jeremy’s avatar was glitching, making it seem as though the pixelated man was humping a rather expensive looking armchair.

“You…” He sputtered. “You have to make it stop. I can’t-!” And then he doubled over with laughter again, having caught sight of the wriggling character out of the corner of his eye.

It took Michael several minutes to calm his breathing. Giggles threatened to crawl out of his chest, and he smothered them with a smile, knowing that if he let them escape he was just going to lose it all over again. When he was sure he wouldn’t die, he turned his gaze to Jeremy, expecting his friend to be in a similar state.

Jeremy wasn’t laughing.

He was staring at Michael with a small sad look, eyes far away. Michael’s good mood dropped instantly, feeling insecure. _How long had Jeremy been staring at him?_

“What’s wrong?” He asked, forcing a lighthearted tone. Jeremy’s eyes snapped back into focus. “You still moping about me catching you beating your meat? It’s not like it was the first time, buddy.”

Jeremy’s face flushed deep red in an instant.

“No!” Michael laughed. It felt forced – awkward. Jeremy sighed and ran a hand through his curls.

“No, I’m just…” he huffed a breath, turning away from Michael. “It’s nice to see you be happy.”

“Oh.” Michael forced out, falling into a stunned silence. Jeremy pressed on.

“Not that it’s like bad or anything. It’s just that, well, lately you’ve been kind of… sad? Spacey?” he shrugged and gesticulated vaguely. “I missed seeing you smile.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and pointedly turned away from Michael with an embarrassed huff.

“Awwwwww.” Michael cooed in a teasing voice, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. After a beat of silence he sighed and continued, “But yeah, I know you mean, I’ve been kind of out of it lately. I was working through some stuff.”

 _Stuff_ didn’t even begin to cover it. He rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the floor.

Jeremy reached out and placed a hand on his bicep.

“You wanna talk about it?”

The urge to reach up, place his hand on Jeremy’s, and tangle them together was strong. He breathed through his nose and settled on a genuine smile instead.

 _Stupidly in love_ , future-Jeremy had said. On nights like this, Michael could almost make himself believe it.

 

He had been trying to find a way to approach the subject all day. It was weird, right? To have to talk to your parent about their health? How do you even start that conversation?

With the memory of future-Jeremy’s warning, he pushed forward.

“Hey mom?” Michael asked, awkward nerves brewing in his stomach.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, dear.” She scolded reflexively. She was still looking down at her lesson plans for the next day, absentmindedly taking bites of homemade chicken inasal. He swallowed around a sheepish smile and put down his fork.

“When was the last time you went to the doctor?” Mrs. Mell paused, slowly turning to look at him.

“I’m… not sure honey.” She waited for him to elaborate further, but he said nothing. After a moment of silence, she gave in. “Why?”

“Well,” Michael started, a bit too loud. “I know you’re always talking about me needing to take care of myself and I was just thinking that maybe you need to take care of yourself too, ‘cuz like, you know, you’re my mom, and I don’t want anything to happen to you, and you work really hard, and-” he took a deep breath, clamping his mouth shut to avoid further ramblings.

Mrs. Mell reached over and placed her hand over his own.

“Hey, it’s okay.” She comforted, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. “You’re right. How about I make an appointment for next week?”

He let out a shaky breath and nodded. The tightness in his chest lifted slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds good.”

She smiled at him and squeezed his hand before turning back to her work.

 _God that was awkward_ , his mind supplied. He was just happy it was over, and he would never have to have that conversation again.

Which was why, of course, he found himself in a similar situation the next night.

Sat around a different table, he was silently pushing mac and cheese around his plate. If the talk with his mother had been awkward, this was going to be hell in comparison.

“So,” he blurted. Jeremy and Mr. Heere jumped at his sudden interruption, staring at him as they waited for him to continue. Michael felt his palms start to sweat.

“Yes, son?” Mr. Heere prompted. Michael grit his teeth together.

“I’m going to schedule a doctor’s appointment for you next week.” Michael said quickly, making eye contact with wall. He fought off a cringe and shoved more macaroni in his mouth.

The silence was unbearable. Mr. Heere stared at him for a moment longer, before-

“Okay.”

He shrugged, going back to his meal. Jeremy’s mouth was hanging open.

“Seriously!” He screeched, looking between the two of them with wide eyes. “I’ve been telling you to get a checkup for the past year!”

And Michael couldn’t help it – he started laughing.

Everything was going to be just fine.

 

Having emerged somewhat successfully from his time-travel induced existential crisis, Michael finally began sitting with Jeremy and Christine at lunch. Today, that also included Rich and Jake, who were decidedly less asshole-ish than their previous actions would have lead anyone to believe.

“It’s not gonna work, Rich.” Jake laughed, shaking his head. “There is literally no way Mr. Reyes is going to let you understudy for Beatrice.”

Rich pouted.

“Even if I wear a wig?”

“ _Especially_ if you wear a wig.” Rich halfheartedly threw a fry at Jake, grumbling under his breath. Michael laughed.

“Why didn’t you try for Beatrice?” Jeremy was smiling at Christine from his place next to Michael, but it wasn’t the nervous smile that he usually wore. It was surprisingly relaxed – which Michael honestly didn’t think Jeremy was capable of in her presence.

“I’m a much better Hero; her personality fits me a lot better.” She explained, stabbing at her salad. “Besides, you’re Claudio! I couldn’t ask for a better scene partner.”

Michael waited for the stuttering, blushing, screeching. It never came. Jeremy just laughed, nodding his head in agreement.

_What the fuck?_

Michael didn’t realize he was staring until Jeremy turned to speak to him and froze, caught in Michael’s gaze. A deep blush slowly worked its way up Jeremy’s neck, as they continued to stare at one another.

Jeremy’s eyes were really beautiful. It was stereotypical, and straight out of a trashy romance novel, but _god damn_ Michael loved this boy. They always betrayed exactly what he was feeling, like an open book, and they were so _clear_. It was as if he could dive into the deep end and discover the secrets of the universe, tucked away in the recesses of blue and green. And his face was so soft, Michael could just reach forward and touch-

“Michael?” Christine asked, instantly shattering the moment. Michael’s head snapped to the side to look at her, eyes wide.

“Yes?” It was an octave too high, and he felt his face heating up uncomfortably. He didn’t have the nerve to turn and see Jeremy’s reaction.

“I asked if you and Mr. Reyes had found all the lightning equipment?” She smiled kindly, _knowingly_.

He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, trying to pull himself together after whatever the hell that had been.

“Yeah, it’s uh,” He took a deep breath. “We found it. Mr. Reyes is gonna have me begin moving everything into place and help with some of the heavier lifting for the sets.” He prayed to god he sounded semi-normal, and not like he’d just had an existential experience in his best friend’s eyes.

“Speaking of,” He continued, beyond flustered, “I should probably get a head start on that. Lots of stuff to uh… do. I’ll see you all later!”

He ran out of the cafeteria without waiting for a response.

Christine shared a pointed look with Jake and Rich in his absence. Jeremy watched Michael’s retreating form, something familiar and frightening curling in his abdomen.

 

Michael tried to play off the cafeteria as a one-time fluke – a weird moment between friends that didn’t mean anything.

The problem was, _it kept happening_.

“Jeremy!” Mr. Reyes snapped, calling everyone’s attention to the stage. Michael, who had been moving heavy equipment around the auditorium, pulled his headphones off his ears and looked around in confusion. “If all you’re going to do is stare at Mr. Mell and miss you’re cues, I’m not sure why you signed up for the show in the first place!”

Jeremy looked mortified, his face burning as he stared at his feet.

“– and Mr. Mell!” Mr. Reyes continued, turning on him with a finger pointed in accusation. Michael gulped. “Put away the gun show. You’re distracting the performers.”

Michael had taken off his hoodie minutes prior, overheated from physical labor. The tank top he wore underneath was one of his favorites, though a bit tight on him after years of use. He blushed, snatching his hoodie off a nearby seat and quickly throwing it over his head. He could hear a few students snickering.

He threw his headphones back on and tried to ignore the frantic beating of his heart.

After rehearsal, he approached Jeremy to ask if he wanted a ride home, but all he got was a stuttered response and a lame excuse before Jeremy had run out the door and left Michael standing in the auditorium confused.

The pattern continued throughout the week. One minute Jeremy would seem normal, laughing at some dumb thing Michael said or scrunching his face in concentration during a particularly difficult level, and the next he would be a sputtering mess – fidgeting with whatever he could get his hands on and avoiding eye contact like he never had before. Michael was slowly losing his goddamn mind.

He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Jeremy had always been anxious around people – it was just a facet of his personality, at this point. But Jeremy had never been anxious with _him_.

What had changed?

 _Stupidly in Love_ , future-Jeremy’s voice seemed to taunt him. _Head over heels for his best friend._

Feeling a desperate kind of hope building in his chest, Michael tried to suffocate it. Hope was the last thing he needed. Hope was how you got hurt.

(The shifting of a bean bag chair, leaning over, lips puckered, _just an inch further-_ )

 

Poetically, it all came to a head in Michael’s bedroom, where it had all begun.

For once, they weren’t playing video games. Sat on Michael’s twin bet, the two boys shared a pair of earbuds, listening to a new band he had just recently discovered. They were kind of indie, which wasn’t really Michael’s thing, but he knew Jeremy would love them. Seeing the smile on Jeremy’s face was worth a few cheesy songs.

“ _Quality over quantity, baby_.” Michael sang, closing his eyes. “ _I’d take a second over a year if it was with you, maybe. Eternity is nice, I’m sure. God can keep it to himself, you’re all I adore…_ ”

When he opened his eyes, Jeremy seemed much closer than he had been before. Michael stared back, watching the flush slowly overtake his friend’s face.

Jeremy’s eyes flickered down to his lips, and Michael’s heart stopped.

 _Stupidly in love_ , future-Jeremy seemed to whisper in his ear. Michael could almost imagine him here, sitting in a bean bag chair on Michael’s floor, nervously clutching a controller as if it were his last lifeline.

“What’s been going on with you dude?” Michael asked, his voice soft. He already knew the answer.

_Stupidly in love._

“Nothing, man, I’m just-” Jeremy’s words were rushed and awkward. He refused to make eye contact.

_Stupidly in love._

“I’ve been thinking a lot recently, and-” He continued, voice raising in octave as Michael drew closer and closer.

_Stupidly in love._

“You know you’re my best friend, so-”

_Stupidly in love._

Michael cut him off, bringing their lips together.

 

 

**15 YEARS LATER**

Michael slowly regained consciousness, his eyes fluttering open and cringing against the harsh sunlight streaming through the window. It felt like it was way too early.

Moving to get up, he was stopped at the last minute by a strong pair of arms wrapped around his waist. He fell back to the bed with little resistance, thankful for any excuse to stay for just a moment longer. Michael hummed happily, lazily turning around to lay face to face with his husband.

Blinking his eyes open slowly, he froze at the sight before him, breath caught in his throat.

Michael hadn’t thought about _Temporal Vertigo_ in years. When he did think of it, he could usually convince himself that it was all a dream – a horrible nightmare. He felt tears burning his eyes as he looked at Jeremy’s all too familiar sleeping face, déjà vu hitting him like a freight train.

Jeremy’s mouth was hanging open, drool pouring onto his pillow. He had grown his hair out slightly, perfecting the whole _tortured artist actor_ vibe. The urge to run his hand through those curls was almost always impossible to resist. He had stubble, and his face was more angular, and…

And it was like seeing a ghost.

For the first time in a long time, Michael wished he could talk to future-Jeremy.

 _I knew it_ , future-Jeremy would say, _I’m much happier with you there_.  

 _I told you I was gonna seduce the shit out of you_ , Michael would tease.

And future-Jeremy would laugh, and-

“Why are you awake?” Jeremy mumbled, breaking Michael out of his imaginary conversation. His arms tightened around Michael’s waist, and he snuggled deeper into his pillow.

Michael smiled. “We gotta get up soon, sweetheart.”

Jeremy glared at him through half-lidded eyes.

“No.” he said stubbornly, lip poking out in a pout. It stirred something in Michael’s chest – the warm feeling that shot down his spine whenever Jeremy looked at him.

“I love you.” Michael said softly, features relaxing into a dopey grin. Jeremy scoffed, but Michael could see the hint of a blush on the tips of his ears as he shoved his face into his pillow.

“I love you too, you dork.” he muttered, muffled. Michael couldn’t see his face, but he knew he was grinning.

He lifted Jeremy’s face as leaned in, capturing that pouty mouth with his own in an all too familiar gesture.

 _Stupidly in love_ , future-Jeremy had said, and Michael couldn’t help but agree.  

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I really hadn't planned on making a sequel to Temporal Vertigo, but I just couldn't let this story go. It has been really fun to write and explore this idea, and I'm happy ya'll could come on the journey with me :D
> 
> hmu on tumblr @ treebrosephs


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